Obsessions
by A Sheep
Summary: "She was so obsessed that, sometimes, she would be locked in her room for days, looking through fashion magazines and crying herself to sleep from the unfairness in the world. Why couldn't she just be normal, not some ugly, winged monster?" Nudge fic.


**Disclaimer: I do not own Maximum Ride or the characters.**

It all started for her when she was five, trying to drown out all of her pain and suffering. No longer wanting hear the screams and the continuous beeping machines that sent shivers down her spine, the stick thin five-year old opened her mouth and spoke.

All of the actually functional mutants, later to be known as her flock, were shocked. They had thought that the tiny African American child that sat shivering in the back corner of her cage was just another one of the failed experiments; one of the ones whose vitals would work but would be otherwise dead to the world.

But, when the little girl opened her parched mouth and made herself considered alive, she rarely shut it since. The girl would talk for hours about subjects varying from how much she loved sounds the angelic baby made when it wasn't too beaten from the day's experiments to how her dog crate was too small. She talked so much, because she had so much pain to drown out that, by the time she was seven, she couldn't go an hour without having to hear her voice, something reassuring and familiar.

She was so obsessed that even when she tried super hard not to talk she just couldn't help it. She needed to hear herself even if no one else wanted to and it was better than having to listen to Iggy's screams coming from the gurney in the next room. 

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><p>Her next obsession started shortly after she was smuggled out of the School by the moustachioed man with the odd glasses. The obsession began when the chocolate skinned girl sat in front of the electronic box thing, introduced to her later as a television, and was slack jawed when she saw all the beautiful people and all their beautiful things. She was envious at the sight of the women with the long, slender legs that got to hug their hot boyfriends with the rock-solid washboard abs. Why did they get to be so perfect when she had two huge imperfections grafted on to her back? The longing and heartache for normalcy, for perfection and for beauty entered in to the girl's heart that day, pulsing through her veins.<p>

From that day on, all she wanted to look at and talk about was how the latest star broke up with the other latest star and about how some teen heart throb had gotten his successful career. Shortly after, she took her obsession for perfection to the next level: through clothes and makeup. From then on she only shop lifted the most fashionable clothes and, every morning, covered her face in chemical goo.

Fitting in with other twelve year-old girls was her biggest dream and anything that could help her succeed, she needed. She was so obsessed that, sometimes, she would be locked in her room for days, looking through fashion magazines and crying herself to sleep from the unfairness in the world. Why couldn't she just be normal, not some ugly, winged monster? 

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><p>Her relationship with Iggy was basically one big scam. Who cares that she didn't love him back? This obsession of being loved, touched, was something her heart yearned for, desired. She needed to be thought of as normal by someone. She needed someone to take the pain away of being so ugly and alone that talking just couldn't do it anymore.<p>

Twenty year-old Max and Fang were so in love with each other that they no longer had time for the teen. Gazzy and Angel had always been inseparable. After all, they were siblings. And, who did that leave? Her, all by her little, ugly self.

Well, she was tired and scared of being alone, so she attached herself to Iggy. She needed to be sure that someone would always be there for her, if the flock were to ever go their separate ways. She knew that she could not live if she were alone. And, when the mocha skinned girl had Iggy wrapped around her finger, telling her that he loved her and paying attention to her like there was not another girl in the world he wanted, she no longer felt alone and unloved.

When she and Iggy were together she would picture him as the high school quarter back and herself as her childhood dream of being the cute cheerleader with the killer body. From Iggy she would then be closer to her obsession of normalcy and further away from all the pain.

But, after a while, being told that she was beautiful by the _blind_ boy just wasn't convincing enough. So, when she was kicked out of the flock for cheating and on Iggy with some 'hottie' from the high school in the town they were staying in, life was okay for the winged girl. But, when her dream bubble world popped because the high school student found out about her wings and kicked her out on to the streets, she knew that her obsessed world had finally collapsed. 

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><p>Her fourth and final obsession started shortly after she was ditched by her 'dream boy'. The young bird kid's life had crumbled to dust that had been blown away by the wind. She no longer had anyone. Her supposed <em>true love<em> was just another lie. Her fantasy that love equaled normalcy was just another deceit. She had nothing at all.

Her soul was washed away by the tears that she had cried dry and she no longer felt the need to exist. Who would miss her anyway? Not the flock, her so called lover or all the other street kids that she passed every day.

Self-hate then consumed her life; anything painful that made her forget her heartache, she needed. She started with drugs, but the winged girl found coming back to reality too difficult after a mind-numbing high.

Trying to cut her wings off she found was too much of a struggle as she was not able to cut through them all the way due to their location on her back.

She finally decided that cutting words into her skin with a shard of glass was sufficient. She would then be truly marked for what she really was: an ugly, horrible, freakish monster. Having to focus in on the pain was something that took her mind away from her terrible life. 

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><p>The obsessions then followed the mocha skinned teen for her final months, when she was known to others as the creepy teen that muttered under her breath on the streets. The creepy teen that would stand in the corner store, staring at the same magazines for hours. The creepy teen that was marked with her life's struggles. The creepy teen that chose to, one day, no longer exist.<p>

The creepy teen that was obsessed.

_**Bonjour!**_

_**Constructive criticism is gladly appreciated and reviews are as well.**_

_**Thanks for reading!**_

_**A Sheep.**_


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